


Masquerade

by SapphireSmoke



Series: Toujours Pur [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Costume Parties & Masquerades, F/F, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Love Letters, Mistaken Identity, Original Character(s), Set in the Toujours Pur universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-30 05:59:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15745692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphireSmoke/pseuds/SapphireSmoke
Summary: A Bella/Gwen, Bella/Cissy one-shot set between Chapters 2 & 3 of “Amphierotic Bloodlines”





	Masquerade

**Author's Note:**

> **Beta:** None  
>  **A/N:** Written for a contest on [HexRPG](https://www.hexrpg.com/index.php), which is why it’s so short and has no porn, lol. Sorry. It won third place though!  
> 

 

“Mum, stop it, it’s fi—!,” Bellatrix tried, but her last word was cut off by a strangled choke as Druella Black tightened the laces on her daughter’s corset so tightly that Bellatrix had to grip onto the corner of the vanity to keep herself from toppling over. It felt like her insides were getting forced up her esophagus, and the young girl had to close her eyes and swallow hard to encourage herself not to vomit.

Across the room her youngest sister smirked cruelly at the display, apparently still very angry with her for what happened just before Christmas leave. Bellatrix set her jaw and tried not to look at Narcissa though, as she had more important things to worry about right now, and Narcissa’s inability to not be a selfish prat was _not_ one of them. Currently, all Bellatrix bloody cared about was surviving this night.

She wished she was still young enough not to attend her Aunt’s annual Masquerade Ball – like Andy and Cissy were –  but no… now, at fifteen years old, she was expected to make an appearance, and Bellatrix was _not_ happy about it.

“It is _not_ fine!” Druella snapped, practically manhandling her child as she forcefully tied the corset behind Bellatrix’s back. “Already fifteen and without any proper suitors – disgraceful! You’d think by now you’d catch _some_ boy’s attention, but of course you have to stomp around with that terrible slouch and awful scowl on your face… you’re bloody lucky I haven’t rearranged that face of yours permanently!” Something pinched on Bellatrix’s back then and the girl hissed in pain, but said nothing; she knew better by now, and she very much doubted that that was accidental.

Her mother’s hands were in her hair now, roughly piling her mass of curls atop her head and pinning them in place. It was then that Narcissa spoke, all innocence and _bullshit_ as she sought to ruin Bellatrix’s life a little more. “Didn’t you hear, Mum? Bella’s got the Lestrange boy interested in her.”

Something fierce and _angry_ rose up in Bellatrix then as her fists clenched so hard that her nails made deep crescent marks in the middle of her palms. Druella didn’t notice of course, but _Narcissa_ did, and for all of her nerve before, now she looked a bit wary about having said something to Mother. Their one rule, no matter how angry they got at one another, was to _never_ involve Mum.

Narcissa just broke that, and now Bellatrix wanted to break her neck.

“The _Lestrange_ boy? Are you certain?” Druella asked, sounding skeptical. Bellatrix would be offended by that, if not for her overwhelming desire to not be within twenty paces of the aforementioned irritant to her life. Druella had momentarily abandoned her task of doing Bellatrix’s hair though, leaving it only half done as she crossed the room to her youngest daughter, who was now looking as though she regretted opening her mouth and getting her mother’s attention. “Speak, girl! I won’t have you give me _or_ your sister false hope. Why do you believe he’s interested? _Well?”_

Narcissa swallowed hard, clearly regretting her decision to get involved. Her gaze flickered over towards her sister then, who was shooting daggers in her direction, silently _demanding_ that she not say any more. Unfortunately, their mother’s question of ‘Well?’ in that sharp, frightening tone of hers made Narcissa nearly jump a mile and she rushed to grab a folded piece of paper from the pocket of her robes. She held it out to Druella with a trembling hand, and the woman snatched it up before Bellatrix could steal a look at it.

She had no idea what that was; as far as she knew, Narcissa had only heard about Rodolphus’ interest because of what Gwendolyn Travers had said in the Slytherin compartment on their way to Hogwarts. Bellatrix’s stomach tightened as she watched her mother scan the contents of what looked to be a letter, but instead of being satisfied with it as some kind of answer, her frown lines only etched deeper.

“It’s _unsigned,_ you foolish girl; what makes you think it was the Lestrange boy that sent this?”

“What is it? If it’s for me, I want to see it!” Bellatrix demanded, holding out her hand. Not that she was expecting anything different, but it was slapped away with the letter. Druella did not care what she wanted apparently; she was still staring straight at Narcissa.

“Well… he…”

“Speak _up!”_

Narcissa looked like she might cry. Good, served her right; getting all into her business like that. Bellatrix didn’t care _how_ mad at her Narcissa was, that never gave her the right to involve Mother in their affairs. Honestly, how stupid was she? Narcissa was terrified of Druella, and for good reason – why she wanted to get herself back on their mother’s radar, Bellatrix had no idea.

“He… I overheard him telling another boy at the Slytherin table before break that him and Bellatrix were ‘meant for each other’ and… and in the letter it says…” Narcissa stuttered, but that was apparently good enough for Druella, who rounded on Bellatrix with sudden glee.

“Oh, well then this is _wonderful!”_ she fake gushed, which only made Bellatrix’s stomach churn tighter in her gut. Did the letter really say something about them being meant for one another? How _vile,_ not to mention presumptuous. It seemed Druella did not care how Bellatrix felt about the matter though, and demanded, “You _better_ keep him interested, you worthless girl; find him downstairs later and give him anything he bloody wants, save your chastity. You’ll never do better than a Lestrange, so don’t muck this up.”

Bellatrix smartly chose to keep her mouth shut, but if she had her way then she was _definitely_ going to muck this up. The last thing she planned to be was anyone’s bloody house wife – especially to the likes of Rodolphus Lestrange.

[x]

_Dearest Bellatrix,_

_I hope you’ll accept my proposal to be my date for your Aunt’s Masquerade Ball this evening. Despite what you or anyone else may believe, I am certain that we are destined for one another. Meet me in the garden when the clock strikes nine – I’ll be waiting._

_Sincerely,_

_Your not-so-secret admirer_

The letter left a bad taste in Bellatrix’s mouth, but it wasn’t as though she had much of a choice in the matter now that her mother knew about it. Honestly, the sheer _audacity_ that Rodolphus had – saying they were ‘destined for one another’ – it was enough to make Bellatrix want to set fire to tiny puppies. This house, this _life…_ it suffocated her. She wanted to grow up to me more than just some frivolous housewife and an incubator for someone’s spawn, yet because she was a Black, it seemed that becoming anything but was out of the question.

It made her want to scream, it made her want to _rage,_ and yet all Bellatrix could do was straighten the mask that lay over her eyes as she descended the grand stairwell of Walburga’s home, hoping her mother wouldn’t notice when she cursed Rodolphus’ head straight off his body. She wanted to be upstairs with her sisters, with her cousins, enjoying the one night a year they used to have unsupervised and yet instead she was stuck in this hell hole, and it infuriated her.

Maybe one day she would have the strength to run away from it all, but unfortunately it didn’t seem like today would be that day.

“Of _course_ your mother would put your hair up – that woman has absolutely no taste,” Walburga complained once she caught sight of her, one of her hands reaching up to finger one of Bellatrix’s loosely hanging curls as though the sight of it disgusted her. “How she expects you to find a husband, I have no idea. Now, if _I_ had bore a daughter—”

“But you didn’t, did you, Walburga?” Druella interrupted, having overheard her sister-in-law as she came up to stand behind Bellatrix, who inwardly scowled. “And I’ll have you know that my Bellatrix has the _Lestrange_ boy interested, so I wouldn’t concern yourself in my family’s affairs; Cygnus and I are quite adept at handling our children’s lives.”

Walburga just shot a sour look towards Druella, but the woman was already pushing Bellatrix away rather violently as she hissed in her ear, “ _Don’t_ keep him waiting, girl; I’m warning you. If you embarrass me tonight, so help me.”

Bellatrix knew what the consequences would be, but at the moment she wasn’t entirely sure if they wouldn’t be worth it. Still, it wouldn’t be smart to argue with her mother in public, so Bellatrix silently did as she was told and slipped away from the two older woman, weaving through the masked guests so she could get to the back door that led to the garden. She might as well get this over with; at the very least, she could demand Rodolphus stop pursuing her, or make herself look as unattractive and defiant as possible so perhaps he wouldn’t _want_ to marry her.

The garden was mostly devoid of guests, though there was a littering of them here and there. They were all laughing behind their masks, bringing glass after glass of wine to their lips as they enjoyed the celebration and the company. Bellatrix was enjoying neither however and continued to wander through the large garden, wondering where the hell the boy even was. Finally she approached a rather secluded corner in the back and a hand seemed to suddenly come out of nowhere, pulling Bellatrix behind a large shrub near the far eastern wall.

“What the _hell—?”_

“Did you like my letter?” asked a flirtatious feminine voice. A _familiar_ feminine voice, at that. Bellatrix’s mouth dropped open as she looked at the person who had pulled her aside, seeing the familiar form of her friend and lover behind an intricate maroon mask that complimented her complexion in a way that Bellatrix couldn’t help but notice.

“Are you bloody—Gwen, my _mother_ saw that letter!” Bellatrix exclaimed in a heated whisper, her stomach tightening for a completely different reason now. This was _dangerous._ “She thought it was from Rodolphus! _I_ thought it was from Rodolphus; I came here to tell him to sod off!”

Gwendolyn looked at her like she must have been mad to think that. “Are you kidding me? That wanker couldn’t string two words together on paper even if you paid him to. You _honestly_ thought it was him? I’m insulted. So much for romance.”

“Gwen, stop it,” Bellatrix pleaded, beginning to grow paranoid. It was one thing when they did this at school, but another when they were around her _family._ “It’s bad enough Cissy knows about us; I can’t—I will _not_ risk anyone else finding out. Don’t you realize what will happen? Contrary to what you might think sometimes, I _do_ bloody care about you; I don’t want to see either of us disowned. You were stupid to do this!”

“No, _you_ were stupid to think that I’m not serious about you,” Gwendolyn said strongly, lightly pushing Bellatrix against the brick wall. Her hand was gripped tightly around her wrist, her eyes searching her lover’s. “I don’t _care_ that you bloody sister knows—”

“Well I do!” Bellatrix exclaimed fiercely, a sudden ache pressing down on her chest. She was just as angry at Narcissa as she was with her, but that didn’t mean that she didn’t miss her. “She _hates_ me for this; she thinks I’m going to get disowned and leave her alone to deal with the shit storm that Mum puts us through. You have _no_ idea what goes on in our house, Gwen. And I know that Narcissa’s just a child and I know she doesn’t bloody understand, but she’s _not_ wrong. We’ve been taking stupid risks, but the ones at school I can handle; _this_ however, is past a line I will not let either of us cross. Now get off of me.”

Gwendolyn’s fierce gaze met hers then, challenging her. She always did this, and it was something Bellatrix usually liked, but not now. Not here. “Make me.”

Bellatrix knew that she could; when it came to physical strength, she certainly had the upper hand. But that wasn’t what Gwendolyn wanted right then, and the easiest way to get through this quickly was to give her exactly what she was after. So, after a quick dart of her eyes to make sure no one could see them, Bellatrix grabbed the back of the other girl’s head and brought her lips to hers.

And it ached, it did; Bellatrix wanted nothing more in that moment to just fall into Gwen and let her have her, consequences be damned, but she had her sisters to think about because in the end, Narcissa was right; if she was disowned, kicked out and shamed, who would protect them from Mother? No matter how angry Bellatrix might be, she couldn’t do that to either of them. She might be a shit human being most days, but she still had enough sense to know that that wouldn’t be right.

So when they broke, Bellatrix gave her a soft push away from her. “Go,” she pleaded softly, needing Gwendolyn to realize how serious she was. She didn’t beg anyone for anything, and so it meant something when she finished with a desperate sounding, _“Please.”_

Gwendolyn licked her kiss-stung lips, the sadness evident in her eyes. She didn’t argue though, didn’t plead with her to reconsider – she could just tell by the look on her lover’s face that it wouldn’t get her anywhere. So finally the girl nodded in recognition, stepping back.

“You’ll still…? In school, we’ll still be…?” she tried, needing to know if things would change. But they wouldn’t – Bellatrix didn’t think they ever would. She felt something real for Gwendolyn, and that terrified her. In the end though, Bellatrix knew she would always choose feeling something frightening over feeling nothing at all.

Because at least this way, she felt human. She felt _whole._

**\- FIN -**


End file.
